


Expectations

by basiltonjeans



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Kissing, M/M, Neighbours, One Shot, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Pining Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21918421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basiltonjeans/pseuds/basiltonjeans
Summary: When they began advertising for a new neighbour across the hall from my apartment, I was expecting someone similar to the last owner – Mr Rendall. He was quiet, pleasant and unnoticeable. I was expecting another person who I could happily ignore or who would happily ignore me too. At a push, I was expecting that the worst-case scenario would be a slightly-cheery couple – the man might smile at me in the lift on our way up to the sixth floor, but the woman wouldn’t spare me a glance. I was certainly never expecting a change in my life.I was, therefore, completely caught off guard when what I received was Simon Snow. My expectations had never been more wrong.or; Simon Snow moves in across the hall from Baz Pitch, and he is immediately doomed.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 203





	Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've decided to write a short one-shot for one of my favourite ships. I haven't written a fanfic since I was about 14, so please be kind. 
> 
> I have SO many ideas for other things to write. I have absolutely no time to do it. But I'm going to anyway. 
> 
> Hope everyone has a lovely Christmas! xxx  
> (ooo! maybe I should write a christmas one-shot!)

When they began advertising for a new neighbour across the hall from my apartment, I was expecting someone similar to the last owner – Mr Rendall. He was quiet, pleasant and unnoticeable. I was expecting another person who I could happily ignore or who would happily ignore me too. At a push, I was expecting that the worst-case scenario would be a slightly-cheery couple – the man might smile at me in the lift on our way up to the sixth floor, but the woman wouldn’t spare me a glance. I was certainly never expecting a change in my life. 

I was, therefore, completely caught off guard when what I received was Simon Snow. My expectations had never been more wrong. 

-

The first time we meet, I’m on my way back from my aunt’s bakery. Fiona likes to force me out of the comfort of my home, uttering nonsense about how I don’t get out enough. I’m carrying a coffee in one hand, a blueberry muffin in the other with my bookbag hanging from my left shoulder. Wearing a large pair of sunglasses, I look like some sort of celebrity trying not to get noticed. 

The elevator dings when it reaches the sixth floor and the doors slide open to reveal a collection of boxes sprawled over the floor outside the apartment across from mine. I realise somebody must’ve moved in. Great. I can start politely and awkwardly smiling at another lonely middle-aged man. 

The door to that apartment is wide open but I can’t see anybody inside from where I’m standing. I walk up to my door and place the coffee on the ground in order to fish my keys from out of my pocket. 

“Simon,” I hear a feminine voice say. Oh no. A couple. “I think your neighbour is outside.” Oh yes. Maybe it is just one man. The girl speaking must think I can’t hear her whisper-shouts. 

I put my key into the lock and twist it, pushing the door open. Just as I’m bending over to pick up my coffee cup, I turn my head to see a young boy – around my age – walking eagerly towards me. He’s obscenely beautiful. Absolutely, unquestioningly beautiful, but in the kind of way where he has no idea how beautiful he is. Bronze curls lay messily on the top of his head and piercing blue eyes stare into mine. He has several moles dotted about his face and a daft grin across his perfect lips. 

I straighten up, forgetting about the coffee cup and pushing my sunglasses onto my head, which consequently pushes my dark hair out of my face. He’s still pacing towards me. He’s almost reached me. Almost there, and then he kicks a random item of his that must’ve fallen from one of his poorly stacked boxes. It’s a digital clock. He kicks it right into my coffee, which falls and spills across the floor and onto my shoes. 

“Ohmygod,” he says, cheeks darkening. “I’m s-so sorry. Penny, grab a tea towel please!” 

Penny grumbles through the door, “Oh god, what have you done now?” 

The so-called Simon doesn’t answer her. Instead, he runs a nervous hand through his curls and says, “I’m so sorry about this. I can – um, I can pay for your shoes! How much were they? They look like a lot. But it’s fine! I’ll pay for them either way.” 

“It’s fine.” I say bluntly. His face drops. Oh no. Too harsh, Baz. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. He seems to really mean it. Am I scaring him?

The so-called Penny emerges from the apartment with a blue tea towel in her hand. She passes it to Simon with a smirk on her face. She has large purple glasses shaping her face and her hair up in a very careless, messy bun. Simon immediately starts mopping up the coffee on the ground. It’s a wooden floor, so it’s fine really. 

“He does this all the time,” Penny says in a low voice to me, as if Simon can’t hear us. “I’m Penelope Bunce by the way. He’s Simon Snow – your new neighbour.” 

“Right,” I say, my gaze focused on the back of Simon’s head. His back muscles flex through his white t-shirt. 

“And you are . . .?” 

My eyes flicker from Simon’s back to the wicked look in Penelope’s eyes, as if she knows something I don’t. 

“Baz Pitch.” I don’t bother telling her my full name. It would just open up so much more unnecessary conversation. 

Simon stands from the ground, holding a soggy tea towel in his hands. “I’m so sorr–”

“It’s fine,” I interrupt, stepping into the doorway of my apartment. “I’ve got a pair of shoes to order now. But yeah, this was great. Let’s do it again sometime.” 

Simon’s frown causes my chest to tighten but I try to ignore it. Behind the closed door, I can hear Penelope Bunce cackling. 

-

The second time I see Simon, it’s the following morning. I’ve been up since seven o’clock, having woken from a dream that erupted ideas for my new book. I’m dressed in grey jogging bottoms and a loose black t-shirt when there’s a knock on the door. 

I’m surprised to find Simon there, standing with a nervous smile on his lips and holding a coffee from my aunt’s bakery. 

“Snow,” I say, raising my eyebrows and leaning against the door, arms crossed. 

“An apology coffee,” he exclaims, enthusiastically holding out the coffee to me. The cheerful grin lights up his beautiful face and makes me want to explode. 

My heart is drumming in my chest, but I don’t let it show. “What did you guess?” 

“I went for an oat milk latte,” he says, grin not faltering. 

I furrow my eyebrows, “Good guess.” 

“You just seemed like that sort of guy.” I haven’t taken it from him yet, so he holds it out further. “Plus, it was written on the coffee cup I spilt yesterday.” 

“Clever.” 

“Thank you.” 

I accept the coffee cup, fingers brushing against his as he hands it over. 

“Where’s your girlfriend today then? Bunce, was it?” I look behind him, as if expecting her to come jumping out. 

“Penelope?” His eyes widen at my question and I briefly wonder why. He gulps, “She’s at work, at a radio station.” 

“Delightful,” I remark, taking a sip of the coffee. I’m not sure what else to say to him. The next few years of living beside him are going to be torturous. I can see it now; he’ll be so happy in his new apartment with his girlfriend and perfect life, and I’ll eventually move out when it becomes too much. 

Okay, Baz. Calm down. You’ve only just met him. 

Snow stares for a couple of long seconds, as if anticipating his next move. Finally, he says “Well, I better get going. I suppose you’re busy.” 

“Yes. Very.” I close the door abruptly and press myself against it, wondering how I became so stupid. Why can’t I just be nice? It takes a long exhale and a good look at myself in the mirror next to my door before I’m opening it back up again. Snow, who only reached halfway across the hallway having probably stood dumbstruck outside my apartment for a bit, turns on his heel to face me. “Thank you for the coffee, Snow.” 

His smile is blinding. 

-

The next day I’m coming home from meeting Niall for lunch. He’s getting pretty serious with a girl he’s seeing and wanted to tell me all about it over a panini. I can’t complain – it gets me out of the apartment and consequently away from Snow. The elevator dings on the ground floor and I step inside, pressing floor six. Just as the elevator doors are coming to a close, a hand reaches out and causes them to fly open again. An out-of-breath Simon Snow steps inside, scratching the back of his head nervously. 

“Hey,” he says. I nod in his direction slightly. “Been out?” 

“Are you my mother?” His cheeks burn red. I send him a small smile to indicate I’m joking and I don’t miss the breath he lets out. 

“I’m starting to notice the people in the apartments around me aren’t very nice,” he says conversationally. I tilt my head at him, pursing my lips and he realises what he said. “N-no! No, not you! Everyone else.” 

He’s right though. The people living around us are particularly impolite and impatient people. He would also be right if he meant me. I haven’t been very kind since he moved in – or as kind as I should be considering I can’t get him out of my head and I want to do something about it. 

“I mean, maybe you. You don’t seem to like me very much,” Snow says bravely. He doesn’t sound confident about what he’s saying. His blue eyes dart around in all directions, as if he’s worried to make eye contact with me. 

“You ruined my favourite pair of shoes.” 

He scoffs, “I apologised tons of times! And it’s not like I tried to kill you or something. It was an accident.” 

“That’s what they all say.” 

He gasps this time, cheeks a delightful shade of pink. 

The elevator reaches our floor and he gestures for me to exit the door first, which I do. We silently wander up to our separate apartments and fumble around for our keys. I’m expecting him to say something before I slip away into my apartment and close the door, but once again I’m wrong. 

-

At eleven o’clock the next evening, I’m returning home from an evening with Fiona. We went shopping and ended up knocking back half a dozen cocktails too. My head feels lighter as I drift out of the elevator and onto the sixth floor. 

The first thing I hear is a girl’s laughter coming from Snow’s apartment. Bunce must be back. Then I hear another slightly higher-pitched giggle and think, What a player. I’m so deep in thought that I almost crash into my apartment door. Finding my keys is an impossible task that requires me throwing all my bags onto the ground in exasperation, which creates a larger sound than intended. By the time I eventually find them tangled into a mess with my headphones, another door is opening from across the hall. Christ. 

“Everything alright?” Snow’s kind and attractive voice says. 

“Perfect, taa.” 

I glance over at him through glazed eyes and notice a lovely smirk make its way onto his lips. He asks, “Do you need a hand?” 

“You seem busy already.” 

As if on cue, two heads poke around the corner of Snow’s apartment and two pairs of eyes peer over. 

“Hey Baz,” Bunce says. I nod slightly in her direction. “Oh yeah, this is Agatha. Agatha, this is Baz.” 

“Oh, this is Baz,” she says not-so-subtly. I wonder what they’ve said about me. Her eyes drift leisurely over my floral shirt and black skinny jeans. I agree with what she’s probably thinking – I shouldn’t have picked this shirt. 

“I’m just going to help Baz get inside. I’ll be back in a bit,” Snow tells the two girls without turning to look at them. They take the hint and shuffle back inside but leaving the door ajar. 

Snow starts scooping up my bags into his arms, sending me reassuring smiles. 

“Really, Snow, I’m fine. You should go back inside to your girlfriend.” Girlfriends? 

Suddenly a voice erupts from inside Snow’s apartment, “Girlfriend!? You better not mean me.” 

“No?” I shout back, trying to make eye contact with Simon, who is now fixated on the ground. 

“Or me!” Agatha adds. “That is so three years ago.” 

Oh. 

I push my key into the lock and twist. The door opens and I step into the apartment, holding it open for Snow. He’s holding the bags in his hands, muscles clenching nicely. 

“Where do you want these?” 

“Anywhere,” I shrug, and he places them gently beside the sofa. “Thanks.” 

“How can you get shopping done when you’re wasted?” 

I smile, “Shopping first, then alcohol.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. “Why didn’t you say Bunce is not your girlfriend?” 

“I –” he stutters, blue eyes wide as if searching for the answers on the floor next to my sofa. “I don’t know.” 

“You fancy her?” I raise an eyebrow. 

He splutters, running a hand across his face, “No! Not at all. It’s not like that. She’s my best friend. That’s all.” 

“Oh, sure,” I say with a smirk, unconvinced. 

He bites his lip, “No, really. It’s not that.” 

I nod enthusiastically, showing I’m being sarcastic and I don’t believe him. 

He takes a step towards me, “It’s not that.” Another step. Another. I’m frozen to the spot. Snow reaches his arm around me and it spans the entire width of my waist, warm hand splayed across my lower back. His piercing eyes flicker from my own eyes to my lips, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. His body warmth is intoxicating. The alcohol is no longer affecting my behaviour – it’s all him. It’s all Simon. 

He's slightly shorter than me but the power that he’s holding right now makes him seem so far away. So out of reach. I place my hands on his biceps to make sure this is real. He’s so close to me that I could kiss him. I could – 

“I’m sorry. You’re drunk. I shouldn’t be doing this,” Snow says but it takes him several more seconds to pull away, unwinding his arm from around my body. I’m left feeling cold.

“Simon, I –” 

“I’ll speak to you soon, Baz.” He leaves without another word. 

-

For several days, I don’t see Simon Snow. 

On one day, I catch Agatha in the elevator on her way up to the sixth floor. She’s wearing a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses and a black cap with a cherry on it. She blushes as I step into the lift. 

“Hi there,” she says cheerily. “I’m on my way up to see Simon.” 

I didn’t ask, but I don’t mind her speaking to me as much as I thought I would. 

“You doing anything interesting tonight?” She keeps trying. 

“Nothing really." I'm planning on putting my pyjamas on as soon as I get in and falling asleep to the book I'm currently reading. 

“You know, you could always pop over to Simon’s if you get bored by yourself.” 

I give her a small smile and say, “I’ll think about it,” but I don’t. 

-

A week passes since the incident with Snow. I’m back in the elevator on my way to my apartment. Another hand reaches out to stop the elevator doors. Simon bloody Snow. It’s been a difficult week not being able to see his face, although I haven’t known him for long at all. I want to know him. I want to learn everything about his likes, dislikes, dreams, worries – everything. God, I haven’t been this sappy since . . . ever. 

“Hey,” he says anxiously. He’s wearing a nice pair of slimming black trousers and a white shirt tucked in. Maybe he came from work. Or an interview. 

“Hey.” I have so many questions. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” I think he’s been avoiding me this past week. I don’t know why. I don’t understand any of this. I wanted to kiss him too – oh, unless that’s the problem. Maybe he didn’t want to kiss me, but then didn’t he start it? 

My head is close to exploding. 

“Been pretty busy.” 

“Oh yeah?” This time, it’s me trying to make conversation and I’m getting nowhere. 

I must’ve made things very difficult for him when I didn’t just communicate like a normal person. 

“About the other week,” I begin, but he’s quick to cut me off. 

“Oh, please can we forget about that? I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. Must’ve had a few too many beers or something. So embarrassing to throw myself at a straight guy. Please don’t think badly of me because of it.” 

“Oh,” I say, heart sinking to the ground. “Simon.” He looks up at me with blushed cheeks. “You should know that I’m gay.” His eyebrows raise. We’re about to reach the sixth floor any second. “And that I wanted to kiss you the other night. And at other points. And now.” 

Simon’s mouth is parted as he stares at me from across the elevator. Time slows down for us. 

His shocked expression twists into something of desire as he smacks his hand against the emergency stop button and rushes towards me. His arms wrap around my waist again as he presses our lips together lightly. My own arms enclose around his broad shoulders, pulling us close together. I wonder if he can hear my heart thumping too. His lips are light against my own, kissing me softly and too briefly before pulling away to catch my eyes. 

“Is this . . .?” He says unsurely. 

“Yes, Simon.” I reassure him and this time when his lips touch mine, there’s a drive behind them. He grips at my waist tightly and pushes me until my back hits the wall of the elevator. In response, I tug my hands through his messy curls, earning a muffled sound from his throat. His mouth opens around mine and it’s a whole new experience to have Simon Snow kissing me with his lips and tongue.  
No matter what anyone may tell you, I wasn’t expecting this. 

His warm hands explore under the shirt I’m wearing. He seems to really know what he’s doing. My arm briefly touches the wall behind me just to stabilise myself and avoid collapsing completely. 

I’m wondering how long we can both last in here just kissing and kissing and kissing when suddenly the sounds of the elevator arriving on floor six goes off. 

“Shit,” I mutter. Simon pulls away abruptly, straightening his clothes and hair. I barely have one second to do the same when the lift door peels away and reveals Penelope Bunce standing with a goofy grin across her face.

I’ve got half of my shirt untucked from my jeans and Simon’s hair is sticking up in directions that it is not supposed to. Penelope’s eyes gaze over the both of us and she laughs loudly. 

“Wow. The elevator has never taken that long before to arrive,” she says dubiously. “How strange.” 

-

The next morning, Simon Snow delivers me another oat milk latte – this time with his number scribbled across the cup. And that evening, we go on our first date.


End file.
